Acting
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: It's a hard and complex thing to do. But sometimes it's necessary to survive. Especially when you take poison and then Oliver turns up, as if he betrayed you. But you can't act when your lover dies, can you? Amelie's POV as to when they are captured in CC


**_For curlycharliee and all of you who love Sam and Amelie_**

**_I own nothing_**

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_Amelie's POV:_

Acting.

It's something which is complex, requires much practise and is hard. You need to become a master at it in order to be able to perfect it, in order to make it seem realistic and viable for the reason you are partaking in it, as if it is the truth and that you are the character in the scenario through and through. It can make people believe people belong to others when, in fact, they are simply being a double agent, insinuating that they are on the side of one whilst on the side of the other, but it turns out they _are_ on the side of the people they are originally with.

Acting can save lives.

"Remember, Sam, we need to be shocked when we find Oliver turning up," I urge my lover, stroking his face softly as I process that this could be the last time I see him. We could all perish here and there is a _huge_ chance we will.

"I can't remember what the plan _was_, Amelie: you never explained it properly," he whispers, his hand pulling me closer to him.

I turn away slightly to check the time, and see we have merely fifteen minutes before Oliver shall return with some of my father's people. It pains me to have to do this, to put Sam in such a dangerous position but he has to make his own decisions – I cannot make them for him.

"Fine, we have time enough before they come here… we can quickly recap what the entire plan is," I respond, pulling him with me to the sofa in the corner of the room of the small apartment we have been staying in for six months. "You understand that Oliver is _pretending_ to be on the side of my father and that he has gone to fetch some of his people in order to capture us and take us to my father?" I confirm and he nods, taking my hands in his as he pulls me closer to me.

"I understand that – when you sent Claire and the others out and after you managed to pack Bishop off, you and Oliver planned your little manoeuvre out so that it would be that he would be feeding Bishop titbits of information throughout the time we are on the run and he would think Oliver was his," Sam confirms and I nod, looking into his eyes with my own tear filled ones.

"Yes, that's right," I half smile, ignoring the idiocy of this motion when we are in such a hard time. "You see, Oliver is a better actor than the rest of us – he can pull this off."

"But how can we be sure that he _isn't_ really Bishop's?" Sam asks the question which plagued me for all of a second, as I contemplated Oliver's movement on the chessboard in the Glass House.

"I know you have had rather negative experiences with Oliver, but you have to understand that I spent a long time with him in the past, and he is utterly trustworthy," I say slowly, and Sam laughs sardonically.

"Trustworthy?" he repeats, sarcasm evident in his tone. "Amelie, you told me he _tried to kill you_! How many times has he tried to take this _town _from you, something he doesn't even _want_?" he continues, and I stiffen, knowing we must be speedy for otherwise we shall not complete the plan before we are captured.

"He was around when my Father was around the last time, Sam; he knows the utter lack of concern he has for even the people on his own side… there is _no_ way he would join him, I am one hundred percent sure," I know my confidence is evident in my tone as I look at Sam with heartfelt eyes. "We need to trust him, Sam: it pains me to say it, but we do. After all, without him, we are dead anyway."

He nods slowly, evidently happy with this – happy is the wrong word, but I cannot think of the appropriate terminology here. The only thing I could possibly consider would be satisfied, yet that has slightly too happy connotations also.

"So what is Myrnin doing?" Sam asks me and I _have_ to laugh at this, though the tone is entirely wrong and it is too shaky.

"Myrnin is crazy, therefore you can understand why _he_ is the one that Bishop must cure, that _he_ is the one who must be the bait that he _will _fall for," I say, smiling slightly as I envision Myrnin climbing the stairs in his poison induced state – it will not be far from what he is normally. "He has a vial of poison in his pocket and when he hears the arrival of us at the deity, he will consume it. His must be stronger than ours, more recent, for the effects of it seem to increase as time passes, rather than the other way around." I continue with the explanation, knowing that it must seem boring but he want to know.

"That's the entire plan: we take the poison, are captured, taken to the stage and he chooses one of the three of us to kill?" Sam confirms… when he puts it like that, it sounds so crude and horrific. But to have more than three of us in there is wrong – there would be so much more bloodshed if there was. I know I stand a large chance of losing Sam, and he a large one of losing me, but we must play that sacrifice for that.

"Yes," I say simply, standing up and pulling him up with me, ignoring his protest that he can do it himself. "But we _must_ act as if we didn't know Oliver was a traitor – his life depends on us. We _must_ behave as if we never suspected a thing, but also that we are entirely healthy and _do not_ have any poison in our systems. If not, then I fear we could be found out," I stress the point that if we are not scared people, betrayed and angry, everyone there will perish. That includes the humans and Michael.

"I take it that that means we can show emotion for one another as we stand there, fear that I could lose you?" he whispers into my ear, pulling me into his arms faster than I could have possibly expected. This is not the time to be making huge declarations of love but neither is it the time to be insisting that this transparent love doesn't exist.

"Yes, I think that the real feelings we have can only increase our cover," I sigh into his shoulder and check the watch upon my slender wrist. Seven minutes remaining – the poison must be consumed now. "Sam, we need to take the poison now," I say gently, extracting myself from his touch though it is painful to do so. Every inch of me aches to join myself to him forever and to just run, to take the money in this place and sneak out of Morganville, living happily together until the disease destroys us both. That would be a better alternative to what we have to go through:

War.

So we walk across to the table with the small crystal vials of florescent green poison, entirely putrid to both look at and smell, though I am assured by the maker (Myrnin) that the colour is merely an indication of the strength. It is at perfect maturity, apparently, for the job it is required for.

"Here goes," Sam states grimly, removing the stopper from the top of his bottle to reveal the liquid. I do the same thing and after an exchange of a look, we both tilt the bottle into our mouths and feel the poison trickling down our throats.

Instantly, the effects of it hit me: the bitter aftertaste with things that make me instinctively gag and want to spit it out. The roasting of my throat as it burns its way down my windpipe, spreading through my bloodstream. And then the physical effects hit me; I feel weaker and less able to fight, a sense of disorderliness striking me – if I, an elderly vampire, feel this way, how must Sam be coping.

"My love, are you alright?" I turn around slowly to find him on his knees, unable to cope with it. He looks up with tear filled eyes – tears of pain – but nods, holding onto one of the chairs to support himself as he forces himself to his feet.

"I… am… fine," he says through gritted teeth and I pull him into me, taking his weight from me so that he is not going to fall. "This may not be the time, but I need to say this, Amelie. I love you. I always have and, no matter what happens, I always will," he makes a timely love confession as I hear the slow progression of cars along the dusty track: they have no reason to speed. We cannot escape. We do not _want_ to escape.

My hand reaches around to stroke his face, turning his face with its perfect complexion closer to me so I can peer into his sapphire coloured eyes. I can only see love and worry in his eyes – not worry for him, but for _me_. I do not know what I am revealing, but it must be almost the same.

"I love you also," I whisper, tracing the smooth lines of his cheekbone as a hand snakes its way around my waist.

I am about to reach up to kiss him when the front door is burst open, a traitorous Oliver standing there with a silver bullet gun in his hand, disrupting the moment entirely. He blocks the way for us to escape, but we wouldn't anyway. This is all part of the plan – otherwise why would we have told him to go to my Father _now_?

"Oliver, I thought you went to fetch supplies?" I keep up with the lines we rehearsed earlier, putting confusion into my tone as I focus my attention on Oliver. Sam is silent, as he was told to be, but I can tell he is focusing on just how _many_ Bishop sent to collect us. He must _really_ want to have sent fifteen vampires. But he doesn't know that we have weakened ourselves intentionally.

"Did you not suspect _anything_ throughout the past six months?" Oliver asks with incredulousness in his tone, as practised. I believe we must have spent an entire day rehearsing what we would say in these short moments "Did you not realise that you were losing ground daily, that I seemed to go for supplies more times than we could possibly be using? Did you not remember that I _tried to kill you_?" his eyes narrow as he looks at us and for a terrifying second, the malicious anger in his face seeming so real that I fear he _has_ gone on Bishop's side. But then something snaps in him and I get the sense that it is entirely an act and that, if it were other circumstances, he would be _enjoying _himself.

"I cannot say I… but, yes, yes, how could I have been so _stupid_?" I chastise myself, placing my hand on my head for two reasons. One, for it is melodramatic and it appears to fit, but also because the poison is spreading to my brain and it is causing me pain – pain more so than when I left Sam even, which shows the level of pain this must be. "Sam was right, Myrnin was right. I should _never_ have trusted you!" I spit in his direction, fangs sinking and eyes appearing blazing silver as I sense he is about to pounce upon us.

"You are too late, Amelie," James, a German vampire who instantly joined my father, says, a sense of glee about him. He is _glad_ to be getting the chance to 'take me in', to take me to Bishop.

If I was at full strength and didn't dare to risk my Sam, I would fight them – I do not care about the plan: I do not trust these people and I am beginning to fear the consequences this plan has.

_Flashback…_

"Are you _sure_ you want to do this?" Oliver asks me, concern in his face. I shut my eyes as I sit on the sofa and run my hand through my hair, the ponytail of which is over my shoulder in a haphazard sort of style – being in hiding isn't particularly easy. Whilst we may have spent so much time in the manor house I own, that my Father is yet to locate, we have to have a more central location so the rest of our people can stay and this is where we currently are.

Whilst the others may know the general gist of the plan, there are precisely four people who know the mechanics, the part that will possibly kill us all. Three of us are here, the fourth being Myrnin who is a wondrous spy, though he suffers greatly with this disease we are all to succumb to. We know the cure, we just need to access it – and at the same time, reclaim our town. _My_ town.

"Yes, this is the only way," I respond after a moment or two of weighing up a variety of options. "This is the only way that we can make use of the manner by which you have been feeding him information for so long. This is the only way we can confirm that he will be there. This is the only way to capture him and take his blood, once and for all," I continue, opening my eyes to look at Sam with a heavy determination. He seems worried – of course he would be! He has agreed to do something so dangerous, we could all be killed and he has the greatest chance of such an event happening. Oliver, Myrnin and I could survive a draining. Sam cannot. He has no chance if my father chooses to drain him.

"Then you cannot fear the events that will come henceforth," Oliver reminds me, his tone revealing his concern for me. That is strange – until this 'problem' in town, I could only assume that the rumours of his love for me were exactly that: rumours. Yet now… I can see they are the truth.

Sam is jealous – I can tell.

"I _know_, Oliver, you have no need to patronise me," I retaliate sharply, continuing to look at Sam though he does not know. "Samuel and I shall take the poison, along with Myrnin whilst you can be the back up, Oliver. Surely _that_ is enough for you?" I continue in the same manner, unable to help myself as I feel Sam's jealousy leaking all over me. It hurts me that he would think I would go with Oliver…

"You cannot be scared, Amelie," Oliver ignores me, his eyes boring into mine as I turn to face him. "This is what you want. To be scared would be to admit defeat. Therefore, you _cannot_ show fear."

_End of flashback._

I am already ignoring his advice, fear pumping through my veins as I realise I could perish right now, with Samuel, and our plan would have been destroyed. _He_ will have my town forever and will destroy it – I cannot let this happen.

"You bastard!" I swear at Oliver, putting as much venom into the tone as possible to hide the fear. He looks slightly astonished at the tone of my voice, not the words – the others seem surprised at both. But then Oliver simply snaps back to a bored expression, tossing the gun lightly in his hands.

"Come on, let's take them," he orders the others and begins to advance towards us. I swallow a lump in my throat as he nears me – this was the plan, that I would be taken by him to avoid much harm. But this leaves Sam to those _monsters_! I cannot believe I am doing this! "Careful," Oliver whispers so quietly in my ear that even _I_ had a problem hearing it.

"Get your _filthy_ hands _off_ of me!" Sam yells, struggling back against the others though the poison is weakening him. I am woozy and light headed already, so goodness knows how he must be. He is fighting back as he ought to be, as we planned for otherwise if they were to take us easily it would be against the point and would make them suspicious. "Amelie, fight!" he continues, but I shake my head, tears in my eyes.

"We cannot win," I say, my voice strong and clear as I process the illogic of this situation. We ought to be fighting and we could win, but that would be like winning one of the battles in the War of the Roses but then losing the war – it is impossible to win both.

"She got that right," one of the attackers laughs, landing a punch squarely in the gut of my lover so loudly that it makes me wince in the agony that Sam must face in his weakened state. It destroys me to be away from him, to not be hurt by Oliver but for him to be attacked so brutally for simply being on my side and being in love with me.

Oliver takes me by the arm tightly, disposing of the gun and sliding silver handcuffs on my wrist, but he has to do it. If he does not bind me, then I could escape and he would appear suspicious for having not done so. No, if this plan is to work, then I must be entirely subdued.

"Apologies," he murmurs again as the silver begins to bite at my skin, progressing so much faster for the poison in my system. It hurts, it really hurts, and it gives me a chance to transfer some of this into the anger I need to be feeling.

"Why would you betray us, you absolute _psychopathic_ hippie?" I burst out with, this being the only line I can remember, though I distinctly know that there were a good three lines. The poison… it's making my head go woozy; I can't think entirely straight anymore and it seems so distant.

I blink and swallow, forcing myself to come back to the present and the issue at hand: we are being taken to Bishop and we are prisoners. There is a chance we could die here and it is a very real possibility.

"I betrayed you… well, technically, I didn't," he responds coolly as he plays his part to _perfection_. I don't know how well I am doing but he and Sam are absolutely phenomenal. "You see, my _friend_, I was never yours. For the entire time, I was his, and I have been playing you to see if you would fall for the line that I was on your side. You didn't realise a thing, did you?" he continues, moving away as the other vampires throw Sam into the car beside me. He slams into me but the closeness of him is the only thing that calms me slightly – knowing he is still alive is the only thing keeping me going right now.

"We'll be fine," I whisper into Sam's hair, moving my hands slightly to pull him closer to me, meaning I can rest my face in his hair. This could be the last time we are together and I want it to mean something. I love him so much – this is one thing I have _never_ had to fake.

We arrive at the staged area, a vampire I cannot remember the name of driving us here – I presume Oliver was not allowed on the off chance that Bishop may believe that he could still be ours… though why he would risk our deaths would be beyond me.

"Out," Gordon barks, but I cannot move for both the reason that Sam is on top of me and also that the poison is so strong in me – how on earth Sam is still able to function is beyond me, but he is.

After realising that we cannot move – or that we don't _want_ to move, that one is more likely – Gordon wrenches Sam away from me and I cry out, tears coming into the corners of my eyes as I realise that he is _being taken away from me_! I can't cope with this – I need him here! He is keeping me calm and to take him away is to destroy me.

But the evil vampire simply grins at this display of emotion from me, whilst Oliver moves across to the car to get me. As no other vampire is around, he displays his concern on his face as he notices just how weak I am, how I have just betrayed _how_ much Sam means to me, and he shakes his head. Then he mouths, "No, Amelie. You wanted this plan, you cannot fail now."

I nod slightly, to show I understand, just as he pulls me from the car none too gently. From here, he pulls me up the stairs towards where I know my Father is, my hair straggled and showing just how rough life on the run is.

"Well, well, if it isn't my daughter and her useless thing she calls her lover!" Bishop, my Father though I do not deem him to be this to me, calls proudly as he sees me before him, dejected and captured. Evidently he has no idea that I am poisoned, that I am not at full strength and this capturing was orchestrated – it is a hollow victory for him, if even that. "You have _no_ idea how happy I am to see you before me, you snivelling waste of my blood. I am going to make you suffer for what you attempted to keep from me, but, of course, we need an audience for this. Oliver!" he calls upon Oliver, who moves forwards slightly from behind me to be seen.

"Yes?" he questions, almost sounding bored with the proceedings.

"Take her with you behind the curtain – Gordon, take this rubbish to the other side," he orders lazily, knowing his orders will be followed to the letter.

I look him in the eyes, feeling absolutely nothing towards him besides pure hate for what he is doing…

But Oliver pulls me away from him before I can react outside of the plan: I need to stay focused…

OoOo

I hear them outside, moving around in confusion as to what is going on – the humans, that is. None of them know I lay behind this curtain, Sam behind another somewhere to the left… that isn't a good sign. That means he has already made his decision as to who he is going to kill and I fear…

"Amelie," Oliver whispers, moving closer to me and offering me a bottle of blood. I need it so desperately, my throat burning on the inside for the bloodlust caused from the ingestion of the poison as _well_ as the outside from this collar of silver I have been manhandled into wearing. It is so derogatory, but this is not the point.

I hear an announcement and then the curtain falls forwards and I am in the sight of the townspeople – _my_ townspeople – humiliated and broken. Yet I cry out as I see Sam revealed on the other side of the stage, the silver chains binding him causing him a ridiculous amount of pain due to his age and the poison. The poison which is now at a ridiculously high level in our bodies and if we are not chosen soon, we need to take the cure in order to remove the chance of certain death for the other one.

Sam! He is so utterly perfect: I have never had to act around him – in regards to showing him my love, that is. For half a century, I have played him and lied to him, insisting that I do not love him even though I do. I have always loved him and I always will, no matter what goes down here.

My eyes meet his with a frenzied panic echoed in his – a panic as Bishop begins to near ever closer to one of us. I realise I could lose him and I fight every effect of the poison to stay strong, to prepare to rush across to him incase _he_ is chosen by my father. I could not cop-

"NO!" I scream with all my might as the fangs of my Father sink into the neck of my lover. "NO! Oliver, let me _go_!" I cry at the person holding me, but he refuses.

"The plan," he reminds me gently, but I sense that he _wants_ Sam out of the way, so that he can 'get me'.

"Let me go _now_, I don't _care_ about the plan!" I yell at him, my eyes entirely fixed on Sam, watching as his face spasms in pain. I cannot hide my emotions, nor do I want to. His eyes never leave mine and though the pain is there, I see eternal love and the way that he will _never_ let me go.

Finally, he is released, dropped to the ground unceremoniously as his body is almost entirely drained. Bishop licks his lips, evidently having not realised the existence of the poison in the blood yet.

"Fool, _let me up_!" I cry again at Oliver, who finally manages to cut the chain around my neck, freeing me. I take the cure he hands to me, instantly feeling the revitalisation of my body before spurting across the stage to hold the dying man I love in my arms. "Sam, _stay with me_! I love you! Stay here, with me, forever, _please_!" I beg at him, tears cascading down my cheeks.

I have no idea what is going on, besides for the fact that he is still breathing and that his perfect red hair is messed up. His skin is too pale and he is on his last breaths.

I bend over and press my lips to his forehead as he breathes a name.

Amelie.

"I love you," I whisper at him again and again as I feel him beginning to slip away. _"NO_! you cannot leave without my permission and… and… _I don't grant it_! I need you here, Sam, you are the one I love. I love you so _much_, please don't leave me!" I sob into his chest as his eyes begin to close. The sapphire perfection of his eyes, the most brilliant light in him entirely, the window to his soul, shut entirely and I don't know what to do.

Soon, his hand which is gripping my own begins to fall slack and I realise he is dead. He has died. He has _dared_ to die and leave me here, alone, without him!

I pull him up to me and rest my head on his chest, raucous of sobs wracking my entire body as I process he has gone. Truly gone, this time, rather than the half life of a vampire he then had the chance to live with me. Tears spurt out of my eyes and my face twists up as I cannot process the pain ripping through me, the pain that he has _gone_ and left me here_ without him…_ he dared to leave me.

Acting is something that is hard and complex and requires practise. You can become someone entirely different if you use this principle. I have most certainly used it many a time.

Yet I am not using it here – with Samuel, I could _never_ hide my love for him, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't. I love him too much. So the tears falling are real. The utter disbelief he has gone is real.

The side of me that wants to join him is real.

He has left me, but I cannot act that I do not care. I could _never_ act that way – I love him so utterly, so sincerely, that to do such a thing would be a heinous crime. He has left me and it hurts _so bad_ that he has done.

I love him and I need him.

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_**Whatcha think?**_

_**I had tears in my eyes (partially) as I wrote some of this -.-**_

_**Please review!**_

_**Vicky xx**_


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